Legacy 1999
by Glyndewar
Summary: This is a story about the Legacy party set in the year 1999, but with my own characters. Cheyenne Martin from Private also appears in Chapter 4.
1. Chapter 1

LEGACY 1999

Please review! Thanks!

Chapter 1: Rules of the Legacy

"Oh my God, this is the ultimate Leda Fontaine story," Sondra Davenport said excitedly, her hands working nimbly to sculpt her eyebrows into the perfect shape for the upcoming Legacy party.

"I'm all ears," Ariadne Katsopoulos told her. She wasn't just being polite, either. Even though Ariadne and Leda hadn't been friends since the Benny incident, Ariadne still avidly collected bits of information about her former mentor.

Sondra finished fixing her eyebrows and brushed out her long dark hair, then leaned forward with her hands on her knees. "It was the Legacy last year, and Leda and Andrew had split up a few days before. Leda was in one of her wild moods that night, and she started flirting with these two guys from Easton. Anyway, one thing led to another, and one of the guys challenged the other to a duel over Leda. The guy who was hosting the Legacy that year, his father had a gun collection, so they each got one of these antique pistols, and everybody went up on the roof of the penthouse to watch the duel. To make a long story short, they shot at each other and missed, and Leda ended up not hooking up with either one of them. She and Andrew got back together next week, and everybody lived happily ever after. But the point is, I saw Leda's eyes while these guys were dueling over her, and she looked like she died and went to heaven." Sondra's voice softened. "Leda always wanted to be Scarlett O'Hara, and for that one glorious moment, she was."

Sondra returned her attention to her makeup, and Ariadne observed herself silently in the full-length mirror on Sondra's wall. Her aquamarine ball gown was a Nicole Miller original. Daniel Pierce, Ariadne's boyfriend, had bought the dress for her in anticipation of the Legacy. Ariadne thought the dress really complemented her honey blond hair and stormy gray eyes, both of which she knew were unusual in someone of Greek ancestry. Ariadne had no idea how much the dress cost, and she reveled in not knowing. She still wanted to go to college and maybe even law school eventually, but it seemed so much easier to marry someone like Daniel—someone she loved, someone who loved her—and let him worry about the mundane details like how much things cost.

"How are we getting out?" Ariadne asked after a few minutes.

"I got us all off-campus passes yesterday," Sondra explained. "I told them we were going to the Metropolitan Opera in New York to see _Don Giovanni_. Echo went to the library and read up on _Don Giovanni_, so we'll have our cover story ready in case anybody challenges us. Plus, we can get dressed up here, since that's what you're supposed to do when you go to the opera. Believe me, it beats getting changed on the damn train like we did last year."

Sondra clasped a pearl necklace around her neck, then turned to face Ariadne. "I know you're a scholarship girl, and this is your first Legacy, so I'll give you a little primer.

"First, there are ten schools that have attended the Legacy since it started back in the seventies. Clairmont Academy and Wakefield Prep are the only two Pennsylvania schools invited; the others are all in New England except Atherton-Pryce, which is down by D.C. And of course, Clairmont is the only one that used to be an all-girls' school before it went coed. As a result, we're doubly stigmatized in the eyes of New England snob schools like Easton and Barton.

"Invitations." Sondra pointed to the gold crown pendant adorned with tiny diamonds hanging around Ariadne's neck. Daniel had given it to her the same day he bought her the dress. "That's your invitation.

"Plus ones. Daniel's a plus one, of course, or you wouldn't be going. I think he's the only one at Wakefield this year. I'm a plus one, obviously, but David can get in on his own, so it doesn't make any difference to me. The only other plus one at Clairmont is Jeff Willoughby. He's British, you know. Jeff's father is a viscount, and his family's been going to Eton since Wellington went there, so he's an honorary plus one.

"Finally, the rules." Sondra reached down to toy with the crown-shaped pendant around her neck. "The Legacy is a place of pure abandon, a chance to escape the Victorian rules that govern our lives here at Clairmont. As such, the rule against hooking up is totally suspended at the Legacy. As for the rule against cheating…" Sondra paused delicately. "Well, take your cue from Daniel. If he goes off with some pretty little thing, then of course you're free to do whatever you want. Otherwise, stay faithful and enjoy the Legacy for what it is."

"But I don't want Daniel hooking up with some pretty little thing!" Ariadne protested. "I love him!"

Sondra sighed. "It's the Legacy, Ariadne. These things do happen occasionally." She patted Ariadne on the cheek, then slipped into her heels. "Come on, we're meeting the others under the old elm tree."

"So where is this place exactly?" Ariadne asked as she and Sondra walked down the stairs leading to the commons room.

"It's usually in New York," Sondra answered, "but Amy Martin's father is hosting it this year, and he wants to do it at his country house in Litchfield. You probably don't know Amy, she goes to Easton, in Connecticut. Anyway, we're meeting Daniel and the other Wakefield people at the train station in Harrisburg, taking the train to Manhattan, then a limo out to Litchfield." Sondra paused. "Oh, one more thing. If you talk to Amy while you're there, make sure you mention her new stepmother's performance in _Warlord_. She'll probably be up for another Academy Award for it next year, and Amy absolutely idolizes her stepmother."

Ariadne's heart began to pound as she contemplated the adventure ahead of her. Although poised and perfect on the outside, Ariadne was a nervous wreck on the inside. Pull yourself together, Ariadne told herself firmly. This is why you befriended Sondra, this is why you fell in love with Daniel. You always wanted to be one of them, this is your chance to prove yourself.

Ariadne felt Sondra tugging on her wrist. Painting a bright smile on her face, Ariadne followed Sondra out onto the damp grass of the residential quad.


	2. Chapter 2: En Route

Chapter 2: En Route

"How are Leda and David getting up to the Legacy?" Ariadne asked as she and Sondra approached the massive old elm tree in the center of the quad.

"Leda's flying up from Louisiana," Sondra answered. "She'll take a taxi from the airport to Litchfield. David's taking the train up from Princeton, so we'll meet him at Penn Station."

Ariadne sighed to herself. Sondra's boyfriend David Butler, a freshman at Princeton, was good-looking enough to be a male model, and Ariadne had always had the tiniest crush on him. Not that she would ever do anything about it; Ariadne would never cheat on Daniel, and of course she idolized Sondra the same way she'd looked up to Leda before the Benny incident.

Everyone else from Clairmont who was going to the Legacy was already gathered under the old elm tree. Leda's boyfriend Andrew Calder was idly running his fingers through his hair. Ariadne disliked Andrew for two reasons: first, he had the brain of a walnut, and second, he cheated on Leda. Even though she and Leda weren't friends anymore, Ariadne hated to see her used like that.

Echo Williams had been Ariadne's roommate last year, and unlike Ariadne, she was an actual legacy. Echo's grandfather had been one of the first African American students at Wakefield back in the thirties. Ten years later, he patented something to do with the first computers, and the Williams family fortune was born.

Jeff Willoughby and Wendy Kim, one of Ariadne's fellow scholarship students, were holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. As far as Ariadne was concerned, Jeff's weak chin and slightly watery blue eyes were overshadowed by the fact that he was a genuinely nice guy. Wendy's a lucky girl, Ariadne thought to herself as she watched them together.

Jessica Markus, a fourth-generation legacy on her mother's side, was writing in her notebook while she waited. A gifted poet and short story writer, Jessica was also rumored to be a serious Valium addict. Watching the glazed expression in Jessica's eyes as she wrote, Ariadne was inclined to believe the rumors.

Finally, Christian Powell stood apart from the others, his hands thrust into the pockets of his long black overcoat. Christian was a quiet boy best known for being a Dungeons and Dragons geek. Still, Christian's father was president of one of the oldest brokerage houses on Wall Street, while Ariadne's parents owned a diner on the Jersey Shore, and that made all the difference.

Three cabs pulled up next to the residential quad, and everyone piled in. Ariadne and Sondra sat in the back seat of the final cab as the driver, a triple-chinned Pennsylvanian who smelled faintly of onions, wove in and out of traffic on the freeway. When they arrived at the Harrisburg train station, Sondra paid the driver, and she and Ariadne got out of the cab.

Daniel was waiting for her on the other side of the platform, his dark hair and penetrating green eyes visible even from this distance. Ariadne ran across the platform, threw herself into Daniel's arms and kissed him hard. Her tongue slipped into Daniel's mouth as his smooth hands caressed her bare shoulders. Leda had always had a real dislike of public displays of affection, but Ariadne couldn't help it; she wanted the world to know that Daniel was her boyfriend.

More accurately, she wanted Nora Michaels to know it. Ariadne looked at Nora, the only one of the seven other Wakefield students she recognized. Although she was dressed more traditionally for the Legacy, Nora usually looked quite the bohemian: she wore lots of black and huge silver hoop earrings, and most scandalously of all, she smoked—clove cigarettes, to be sure, but still cigarettes. The only reason Ariadne even knew who Nora was was because Nora had told Daniel on more than one occasion that she wanted to hook up with him. Ariadne glared at Nora, who smiled and waved at her.

A whistle blew, and the Keystone train to Manhattan pulled into the station. The Clairmont and Wakefield students all climbed on to the first-class car reserved for them in the rear of the train. Ariadne sank down into one of the plush seats next to Daniel and closed her eyes.

A little while later, Ariadne got up to go to the bathroom. On the way back, she noticed Christian Powell sitting by himself. Christian's father probably knew most of the partners at New York's largest law firms, the places Ariadne dreamed of working in ten years. Plus, Christian was actually kind of cute in a mysterious, brooding sort of way. Surely it couldn't hurt to at least talk to him…

"What are you thinking about?" Ariadne asked as she sat down next to Christian. As soon as she said it, Ariadne bit her lip, realizing it came out more flirtatiously than she intended, but Christian didn't seem to notice.

"I'm trying to figure out how many fire giants fit in a twenty foot by twenty foot room," Christian explained.

"That's what you're thinking about on the way to the Legacy?" Ariadne wondered incredulously.

Christian shrugged. "I didn't really want to come, but I knew my father would be disappointed if I didn't. The Legacy is like an affirmation of our world, our way of life, you know?"

Ariadne stood up. She had been looking forward to the Legacy since the start of the school year, and she couldn't imagine anyone not wanting to go. Ariadne stepped out into the aisle, then paused and looked back at Christian.

"Christian," she said quietly. Christian glanced at her, his face unreadable. Ariadne smiled at him. "If they're giants, you probably can't fit that many in such a small room." Christian smiled back, and Ariadne went back to sit with Daniel.

As they entered the tunnel leading to Manhattan, Daniel turned to Ariadne, his face grave. "Are you going to hook up with somebody while you're there?"

Ariadne considered the question carefully. On the one hand, she didn't want to seem like a prude, or like she wasn't getting into the spirit of the Legacy. On the other hand, she really, really didn't want Daniel hooking up with anyone else. "No, of course not. Are you?"

Daniel smiled, and Ariadne saw a look of relief cross his face. "No, definitely not."

Ariadne squeezed his hand. "Not even Nora…?"

Daniel laughed. "Look, Nora likes me. That doesn't mean the feeling's mutual." He draped a possessive arm around Ariadne's shoulders. "I want my girlfriend to go to Harvard, not Bennington."

When they arrived at Penn Station, David Butler was waiting for them in the upstairs waiting room. Ariadne's heart skipped a beat when she saw David. Daniel definitely had better eyes, but David's blond, chiseled good looks made even some adult women turn their heads. David embraced Sondra and gave her a light kiss on the lips, then led everyone out to the limos parked on Seventh Avenue.

It was dark when Ariadne stepped outside, and the streets were filled with people in Halloween costumes, their laughter mingling with the shouts of the hot dog vendors. The Clairmont students, including David, went in one limousine, the Wakefield students in the other. Daniel rode with Ariadne, much to Nora's dismay.

The limo left Manhattan and eventually drove across the border into Connecticut. The further they drove, the more civilization seemed to recede. Litchfield must really be in the middle of nowhere, Ariadne thought.

"This is my last year doing the Legacy," David announced as he mixed himself a drink from the bar.

"What are you talking about?" Sondra asked with a look of concern.

"The Legacy's just not cool in college anymore," David explained. "You wouldn't believe the shit I had to hear just for coming here."

"What do you mean?" Ariadne asked. She couldn't imagine anyone of any age thinking the Legacy wasn't cool.

"Well, for example, my roommate said, and I quote, 'Big fucking deal. Sounds like a bunch of kids playing dress-up.'"

Sondra's lips tightened. "Obviously, your roommate doesn't belong at Princeton."

David shook his head. "Actually, he's got a point, babe."

Ariadne could see the hurt in Sondra's eyes when he said this, but Sondra just smiled and took a sip of her wine. Ariadne followed her lead. She was drinking exactly as much as Sondra did, no more and no less.

A little while later, Sondra pulled a metal tin out of her bag as the limo raced past empty cornfields on either side of the road. She opened the tin to reveal a bunch of tiny powder-blue pills.

"Ecstasy," Sondra announced proudly.

"I thought Ecstasy came in tabs, like acid," Jessica Markus said.

Sondra patted Jessica's hand. "That's the cheap stuff they sell at raves, dear. This is the good stuff."

"Does it really make you horny?" Ariadne whispered to Sondra.

"Sometimes," Sondra whispered back. "But don't worry, it's the Legacy. No one will care if you and Daniel are indiscreet."

Sondra passed the tin around, and everyone except Christian took a pill and swallowed it with their drink. Ariadne was the last to receive the tin. She hesitated, remembering newspaper articles about how Ecstasy can sap your spinal fluid. Daniel flashed her an encouraging smile, and Ariadne finally downed the pill with a gulp of her wine.

Ariadne sat back and waited for the Ecstasy to take effect. She didn't feel particularly horny, but she did begin to get uncomfortably hot after a while. She hoped she wasn't sweating, but it didn't feel like she was. Colored lights danced along the tinted windows of the limo, and Ariadne's skin was glowing in the dim light.

"What's going on?" she whispered frantically to Sondra.

"I guess I should have told you," Sondra said in a bored tone. "Ecstasy is also a mild hallucinogen. Just relax, and you'll be fine."

"I never would have taken it if you'd told me that!" Ariadne hissed as her overheated brain began to panic.

"Yes, you would have," Sondra snapped back in a low voice. "You want to be one of us so badly, you would have taken poison if I'd given it to you."

Stunned into silence, Ariadne's eyes darted around the limo, but no one else appeared to have heard what Sondra said. Sondra was smiling every bit as pleasantly as if she'd just complimented Ariadne on her hairstyle.

Leda had turned on Ariadne the same way when she forced Ariadne to break up with Benny, but at least Leda had been acting out of misguided concern, whereas Sondra was simply being spiteful. Ariadne knew why Sondra had done it. Sondra had been upset ever since David criticized the Legacy, and she lashed out at what she perceived to be a challenge to her authority. Still, knowing why Sondra did it didn't make Ariadne feel any better.

To cover her embarrassment, Ariadne turned and started talking to Echo about last week's _Law and Order_, one of Echo's favorite TV shows. The banal chatter relaxed her, and when Ariadne looked around, the hallucinations were gone. Only the hotness and a faint sense of euphoria reminded Ariadne that she was still high on Ecstasy.

Finally, Ariadne saw their destination ahead: a huge Gothic manor house perched precariously on a hilltop. As the limo approached the main gate, Ariadne abruptly felt a chill as she remembered the inscription over the gates of Dante's Inferno: "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here."


	3. Chapter 3: Whittaker

Chapter 3: Whittaker

As the limo drove up the winding driveway leading to the house, Ariadne realized that the carefully manicured grounds bore no resemblance whatsoever to Dante's Inferno. Row after row of neatly-planted flowers stood in the garden: azaleas, peonies, begonias and, most abundantly of all, primroses in an orderly array of colors. Ariadne would not have been surprised to find an old English hedge maze somewhere on the vast estate.

The limo pulled up in front of the enormous oaken doors leading inside the house, and everyone climbed out. Sondra herded them all together into a group and took a picture with her new digital camera. Ariadne was relieved to see that Sondra didn't seem to be angry with her anymore. Sondra was the queen of Clairmont's polite society, and Ariadne did not want to be the target of her icy disdain.

A liveried butler checked Ariadne's invitation. "Miss," he murmured with an apologetic bow, and ushered her into the sitting room. The first thing Ariadne noticed was that the room was filled with people in tuxedos and ball gowns. The second thing she noticed was that everything was white: white walls, white carpet, white furniture. It looked like a frozen wasteland—a very expensive frozen wasteland.

"Who decorated this place?" Ariadne whispered to Sondra.

"The former Mrs. Martin, of course," Sondra whispered back. "I doubt Amy's stepmother understands the beauty of the color white. I'll be right back, I'm going to say hello to Amy."

Ariadne watched as Sondra approached a girl in a silver dress. Tall and lean, Amy Martin had done her platinum-blond hair up like a teenage Marilyn Monroe. Ariadne noted that when the two girls exchanged kisses, they were not air kisses; Sondra's lips actually brushed Amy's cheek, if only for the barest fraction of a second.

Daniel came over to stand by Ariadne, clasping her hand in his and placing a cocktail in her other hand. Ariadne squeezed his hand, glad not to be alone. It wasn't like she was shy or anything. Ariadne loved talking to people one on one, and she didn't mind being the center of attention. What she really hated was being one more anonymous face in the crowd, and that was how she felt here.

Ariadne took a sip of her margarita. She had grown up with an occasional glass of wine at dinner at her parents' house, but mixed drinks were something new to her. Since Sondra wasn't around, Ariadne decided to pace herself by watching Daniel drink. She felt a little dizzy, but she figured it was just the residual effects of the Ecstasy.

"Lick the salt off the rim," Daniel said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Ariadne did so, slowly, sensually, exaggerating her tongue motions for dramatic effect. Daniel laughed, but Ariadne could tell that underneath the laughter he was enjoying the show. Ariadne smiled to herself, secure in the knowledge that Daniel wouldn't be thinking about anyone else for quite a while now.

"Come on, they're handing out the white gifts," Daniel said a little while later. He led Ariadne over to where a woman in the white robes of an angel was handing out gift-wrapped boxes. When Ariadne opened her box, she saw a gold bracelet inset with amethysts, Ariadne's birthstone. Leda must love the symbolism of this, Ariadne thought wryly, recalling how Leda had once confided that her ultimate dream was of a heaven so high and cold, only an angel could reach it.

The master of ceremonies, an adult in a tuxedo wearing the mask of an old man with his eyes gouged out, gave the formal welcome address, and the Legacy officially began. The DJ played an old Billy Idol song from the eighties. Ariadne thought about dancing, but she had no instinctive sense of rhythm; she needed a partner to copy her movements off of, and Daniel didn't like dancing. Instead, she leaned her head against Daniel's shoulder and thought about finding a room where they could be indiscreet together.

"Pierce!" David Butler's voice boomed out across the room. "We're getting a poker game together in the solarium. You in?" Ariadne cursed to herself, her crush on David forgotten in her annoyance at him for interrupting her fantasy.

"Yeah, be right there," Daniel shouted back. He turned to Ariadne. "Want to come watch?"

Ariadne didn't want to be left alone, but she also didn't want to seem clingy by intruding on such an obviously manly activity. She put on a brave smile. "You go on ahead. Just come find me when you're done."

Daniel kissed her, then strode off toward the solarium. Ariadne finished her drink in one gulp, then set her empty glass down on the table and watched the murmuring crowd.

"Want to dance?" someone asked after a few minutes. Ariadne turned to look at the guy who had invited her. He was big and blocky, built like a football player, but he had a handsome face beneath a sandy-brown crew cut. Ariadne smiled at him, followed him to the middle of the room and began dancing to some hip-hop song.

After they had finished dancing, Ariadne followed her companion over to the bar, where the bartender mixed them both a margarita. Ariadne did not lick the salt this time.

"You're a really good dancer," the guy told her.

Against her better judgment, Ariadne decided to tell him the truth. "I was just copying what you did."

He seemed unfazed by her admission. "Yeah, but you did it so much better than I did." The guy extended his hand. "Mike Whittaker, Easton. You can call me Whit or Mike, take your pick."

"Ariadne Katsopoulos, Clairmont. I think I'll stick with Mike. Whit sounds like something out of a Jane Austen novel."

Mike considered this, then burst out laughing, his laughter loud and unfeigned. "I like you. Jane Austen is one of the funniest women in the English language. You have good taste."

"Thanks," Ariadne said. "Do you play football?"

"Tailback," Mike said proudly. "What sport do you play?"

"Chess," Ariadne admitted with a laugh. "Clairmont doesn't have an athletics requirement."

Mike nodded. "Yeah, I think I heard that somewhere. I got to tell you, though, you look more like a cheerleader than a chess geek." Ariadne blushed and acknowledged the compliment.

"Let me ask you a question," Mike continued. "Is it true that you guys have like no rules at Clairmont?"

"Yes and no," Ariadne said. "The administration mostly treats us with an attitude of amused tolerance. We're allowed to have cars on campus, and we have locks on our doors and phones in our rooms. But they do enforce visitation, though—no boys in girls' dorm rooms, and vice versa. They used to not enforce it, but then last year, this girl got pregnant, and instead of discreetly getting an abortion, she decided to marry her boyfriend and keep the baby. That flipped the administration out big time, and all of a sudden enforcing visitation became priority number one."

"It only takes one bad apple to ruin the fun for everyone," Mike agreed. "Still, you guys are lucky. We had to sneak out through a hole in the fence just to get here. You want to go someplace more private and chat?"

"Hold that thought," Ariadne said. "I'm going to go freshen up my drink." She picked up her almost-empty glass and walked over to the bar, where the bartender refilled her margarita without comment. Instead of returning to Mike, she walked over to a window in the far corner and looked out at the glass-enclosed solarium.

Amy Martin was standing behind Daniel's chair with her back to Ariadne. It occurred to Ariadne that the guys certainly didn't seem to mind Amy intruding. As Ariadne watched, Amy leaned forward and blew on Daniel's cards, presumably for luck. Daniel reached up and stroked her elaborately coiffed hair. Amy turned her head and looked directly at Ariadne. Her smile looked almost foxlike in the dim light.

Her face burning with anger, Ariadne hurried away from the window. Before returning to Mike, Ariadne swallowed half her drink, then stopped as another wave of dizziness overtook her. Maybe I better slow down a little, she thought.

"Sure, I'd love to find someplace private," she told Mike when she finally returned. Mike offered her his arm. Ariadne smiled and accepted, and they walked off across the room toward the distant hallway.

"This place is huge," Ariadne said as they walked.

"Our place in Newport is twice as big," Mike said. He didn't sound like he was bragging, just stating a fact. "The Martins are a really old family, but they've only got a couple million left these days, plus the houses, of course. It was a real windfall for them when Mr. Martin married that actress." He laughed. "Not that Cheyenne would see it that way."

"Who's Cheyenne?" Ariadne asked.

"Amy's little sister, the DAR of the fifth grade." Daughter of the American Revolution. Ariadne knew that one. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Just one older brother," Ariadne said. "He's a physics major at Caltech. What about you?"

Mike waved a hand. "There's my kid brother Walt, but he's kind of a geek. Okay, here we are." They had stopped at a door next to a flight of stairs leading up.

"Do you know Amy Martin?" Ariadne asked him.

"Sure, everybody knows Amy. She's the queen of Billings, the elite girls' dorm on campus. Why?"

"Does she have a boyfriend?" Ariadne inquired hopefully.

Mike laughed. "Amy's a force of nature. She has conquests, not boyfriends." He tried the door, but it was locked. "Come on, we'll try one of the spare bedrooms upstairs."

When they reached the top of the stairs, Ariadne saw a row of doors on either side of the second-floor hallway. Mike led her over to the first door on the left-hand side. Ariadne opened the door and stepped inside.

Leda Fontaine was sprawled on the bed, her scarlet gown partially unbuttoned and her black lace veil pushed up above her face. A guy in a tuxedo, not her boyfriend Andrew, was lying on top of her, his lips blazing a trail of kisses up and down Leda's neck. One hand was thrust down the front of Leda's dress, while the other caressed her wild black hair.

As Ariadne watched, frozen with shock, Leda opened her eyes and saw her. Leda's misty blue eyes were filled with an almost rapturous delight, but Ariadne knew Leda well enough to be pretty sure it wasn't for the obvious reason. Rather, Leda's delight was more cerebral. For this one night, she was Scarlett O'Hara, the belle of the ball, the center of this guy's universe, and that was all she ever wanted.

Leda smiled and put a finger to her lips. "Close the door," she mouthed. Too stunned to do anything else, Ariadne obeyed.

"Was that really Leda Fontaine?" Mike asked as they hurried off down the hallway.

"You know who Leda is?" Ariadne wondered.

"Yeah, Leda's a legend around here. Two guys tried to shoot each other over her last year." Mike's face clouded over. "That was messed up. The police know enough to ignore most stuff about the Legacy, but somebody actually getting shot, that would be hard to ignore. I got a question for you. Why does Leda wear that veil all the time?"

"Her skin is sensitive to light," Ariadne said. She had seen Leda unveiled, and she suspected the reason had more to do with the tiny scar on Leda's left cheek, a scar which resembled the Grim Reaper's scythe, but she gave Mike the official party line anyway.

Mike opened another door about halfway down the hall, and this bedroom was empty. Mike sat down on the bed, and Ariadne hesitantly sat next to him.

"Hey, Ariadne," Mike said in a low voice after what felt like several minutes. Ariadne turned her head in slow motion, and Mike kissed her. As Ariadne kissed him back, she realized with a jolt exactly what Sondra meant when she said Ecstasy makes you horny; or, at least, the Ecstasy made a convenient scapegoat for her to blame.

Thankfully, the next few minutes passed in a blur for Ariadne. When she and Daniel made love, Ariadne was always extremely aware of what her body was feeling, but this time she tried to distance herself from what she was doing. She wasn't sure exactly why she was making out with Mike: partly anger at Daniel for flirting with Amy, partly a desire to fit in at the Legacy, partly just because she wanted to, though she had trouble admitting that last reason even to herself.

Abruptly, doubt struck Ariadne like a splash of cold water: what if she hadn't seen what she thought she saw, what if Daniel and Amy hadn't been flirting, what if she was doing all this for nothing…? Ariadne pulled away so fast her lips made a popping sound as they disengaged from Mike's. Her dress was hiked above her waist, and she hurriedly adjusted herself back to some semblance of normality.

"I can't do this," Ariadne said breathlessly. "I have a boyfriend."

Mike looked more puzzled than angry. "Ariadne, I'm sorry. I never would have hit on you if I knew you had a boyfriend."

"You wouldn't have?" Ariadne asked, genuinely confused. "But I thought everybody's supposed to hook up at the Legacy…?"

Mike put his arm around her shoulders. "That's just a bunch of bullshit started by people who are too repressed to have fun the rest of the year. I'm not like that. I really like you, Ariadne."

"Thanks," Ariadne said in a small voice. "I mean, my boyfriend, Amy Martin was flirting with him, and he was flirting back…"

Mike's face turned grim. "If Amy's flirting with him, they'll be doing a lot more than that before the night's over. You don't need a guy like that. I never slept with Amy Martin, and I don't want to.

"Come on," Mike coaxed. "At least let me give you my number. We don't have phones in our rooms at Easton, but I'll give you the number of the payphone in our dorm." Mike wrote it down on the back of a business card, then walked Ariadne out to the hallway. "Come on, I'll take you back to the party."

Ariadne shook her head. She couldn't go back to the Legacy yet. She couldn't handle the idea of Daniel and Amy in bed together at this very moment, couldn't face the knowing eyes of everyone there silently telling her she wasn't good enough to hold on to him.

"I need to be alone for a little while," Ariadne said. She turned and started walking in the other direction, away from the distant sounds of the Legacy.

"Be careful!" Mike shouted. "This house is like a freaking labyrinth." He held up his hand to show Ariadne the platinum Rolex watch on his wrist. "If you're not back in an hour, I'll come get you, okay?"

"Thanks!" Ariadne called back. "That's sweet of you." Mike turned away, and Ariadne started walking down the hall, her heels clattering like castanets against the hardwood floor as she disappeared into the depths of the house.


	4. Chapter 4: Cheyenne

Chapter 4: Cheyenne

The corridor wound around and around before finally ending at a door in the wall. A soft light came from under the door. Ariadne tried the handle. The door was unlocked, and she stepped inside.

The room was dominated by a huge wooden table in the center. There were two chairs at the table, and a girl was sitting in one of them reading a trade paperback copy of Edith Wharton's _The Age of Innocence._ A plasma TV hung on the wall, and a computer hummed quietly in the corner.

The girl looked tall for her age, but Ariadne figured she couldn't be more than nine or ten. She was wearing a beige cashmere sweater and a dark blue skirt. There was something odd about her face, and then it hit Ariadne: the girl was wearing makeup. Tastefully applied makeup, but still disconcerting on a girl so young.

The girl looked at Ariadne. Her gaze was direct and unafraid. "Your lipstick's smeared," she said after a minute.

Ariadne blushed, realizing it must have happened while she was making out with Mike. "Do you have a mirror I can borrow?"

The girl reached into her purse, which looked like a miniature adult's, and pulled out a gold compact mirror and a handful of tissues. Ariadne came over, sat down in the other chair and proceeded to fix her lipstick.

"I'm Cheyenne," the girl said gravely once Ariadne had finished.

"Cheyenne Martin?" Ariadne asked, and the girl nodded. "I'm Ariadne Katsopoulos. You must be Amy's sister. I've actually heard about you."

Ariadne could see the family resemblance. Cheyenne was tall and lean like her sister, but her long, straight hair was ash-blond, a softer, more subtle shade than Amy's metallic hue. Cheyenne's eyes were brown, but there was no warmth in them; they were the color of dry, frozen earth in the dead of winter.

A grimace of distaste crossed Cheyenne's face at the mention of her sister's name, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow. "You've heard about me?"

"I was told you were the DAR of the fifth grade, whatever that means."

"Well," Cheyenne said slowly, "I don't think whoever said that meant it as a compliment, but it's still true. Obviously, I'm not really in the Daughters of the American Revolution, but my mother is, and I will be too when I grow up. My real mother, I mean, not my stepmother." Another grimace, this one sharper than the first, crossed her face at the thought of her stepmother. Cheyenne looked challengingly at Ariadne. "What about your mother?"

"No," Ariadne admitted. "My mother's not in the DAR. I'm Greek. There weren't too many Greek people in America during the Revolution."

Cheyenne frowned as she digested this information. "Well, you must be somebody, or you wouldn't be at the Legacy…are you related to the Greek royal family?"

"Distantly," Ariadne lied, and Cheyenne looked mildly impressed. "And my boyfriend, he's related to Franklin Pierce. He was—"

"I know who Franklin Pierce was," Cheyenne interrupted in a superior tone. "Fourteenth president of the United States. Went to Bowdoin, and they called him 'Handsome Frank' because he was really cute." Suddenly, Cheyenne's eyes widened, and she looked at Ariadne with respect for the first time. "Is your boyfriend really Daniel Pierce?"

"In the flesh," Ariadne agreed.

"Wow," Cheyenne breathed. "You're so lucky. He has the most beautiful green eyes. My sister is totally in lust with him."

"Wait a minute," Ariadne said. "How do you know what my boyfriend looks like?"

Cheyenne shrugged. "I saw his picture on Amy's computer. They talk on the Internet all the time."

Ariadne's stricken look must have been obvious, because Cheyenne just shook her head. "Guess he never mentioned that, huh?"

"No, he never did," Ariadne agreed. Mike Whittaker was looking better and better.

Cheyenne rested her chin in her hands and looked at Ariadne for a long moment. Finally, she reached out and patted Ariadne's hand awkwardly, her brown eyes thawing a little. Ariadne could tell the gesture wasn't easy for her. "Don't worry. Amy will never be any more than his mistress."

"That's not much comfort," Ariadne said bitterly.

"It should be. Guys in our social class hardly ever leave their wives or girlfriends for the other woman." Cheyenne's voice hardened. "That's one thing I'll never do when I grow up. I'll never be the other woman."

"An admirable goal," Ariadne told her, and Cheyenne beamed. It occurred to Ariadne that Cheyenne had never questioned what Ariadne was doing here talking to her, or why she wasn't off at the Legacy. To Ariadne, this spoke of either a profound self-absorption or an even more profound sense of loneliness, such that even chatting with a stranger in a ball gown seemed preferable to sitting alone in an empty room.

"How old are you?" Ariadne asked. "Where are your parents?"

Cheyenne reached up to tug on the tiny diamond stud in her right ear. "I'm ten, and my father and stepmother are in Manhattan having dinner with the Carmichaels. They won't be back until tomorrow. My nanny thinks I'm in bed. Do you want to play a game?" Without waiting for an answer, she went over and opened the closet which filled most of the left wall. Inside were a bewildering variety of board games, video games and computer games.

"Do you play chess?" Ariadne asked.

Cheyenne frowned. "A little. But it's not very ladylike."

"Sure it is," Ariadne said. "Even in your social life, you need to think strategically. Life is full of enemies. You need to outthink them if you're going to survive."

"Will you teach me?" Cheyenne asked. She was watching Ariadne with rapt attention.

"Sure," Ariadne said. She got down the chess set because it was too high for Cheyenne to reach. The board was carved out of wood, and the pieces were ivory and jet. Ariadne began setting up the board as Cheyenne watched.

"You're really pretty," Cheyenne said suddenly.

"Thanks," Ariadne answered. "So are you. You'll be a real heartbreaker when you grow up, Cheyenne."

Cheyenne grinned. "I know. I'm going to have lots of boyfriends, as many as I can juggle."

Ariadne smiled indulgently. "You say that now because you've probably never even kissed a boy. But you'll fall in love someday."

"No, I won't," Cheyenne insisted. "Love makes you vulnerable. Like you said, I've got to think strategically."

"You don't get it," Ariadne said. "Thinking strategically is how you play the game, but love is the object of the game."

Cheyenne frowned dubiously, and Ariadne decided it was waste of time arguing about love with a ten year-old. She finished setting up the pieces and let Cheyenne play white, which meant Cheyenne went first.

For the next forty-five minutes, Ariadne lost herself in the ritualized abstraction of chess. As she had told Cheyenne, Ariadne was capable of viewing the world as a chessboard and the people she knew as pieces to be maneuvered here and there to accomplish her objective. Maybe if she went out with Mike, Daniel would get so jealous he'd drop Amy like a hot potato and never cheat on Ariadne again…

"I don't get it," Cheyenne announced, frustration evident in her voice.

Ariadne dragged her attention back to the present. "What don't you get?"

"I'm pretty, I get straight A's, I don't sneak out, and still they forget about me. Still I'm second best."

Sneak out where? Ariadne thought. You're ten. "Second best to who?"

"Amy, of course. Who else?"

Ariadne patted Cheyenne's hand, just as Cheyenne had done for her. "Don't worry, Cheyenne. Someday you'll do something that will make everyone notice you."

"How do I do that?" Cheyenne asked eagerly.

"Just stand up for what you believe in," Ariadne advised. "What do you believe in, anyway?"

Cheyenne drew herself up to her full height. "Tradition. Honor. Excellence."

Ariadne recognized the Easton school motto. "Those are noble words. If you defend them with all your might, no one will ever forget you."

Cheyenne's brow furrowed. "Even if adults tell you you're wrong?"

Ariadne nodded. "Even then."

Cheyenne smiled, exposing a single crooked tooth. "Thanks, Ariadne. I will." She sat back down and continued playing.

Cheyenne was smart, and she had good instincts, but Ariadne was six years older and a nationally ranked player. Eventually, Ariadne drove Cheyenne's king back to the edge of the board. "Good game," Ariadne said. The game had calmed her down to the point where she felt like she could go back to the party without freaking out.

"It's not over yet," Cheyenne insisted. "You can't get me this turn."

"No, but I will next turn," Ariadne pointed out. "If you go here, my bishop gets you. If you go there, my queen gets you. It's over, Cheyenne."

"What do I do?" Cheyenne asked with a panicked look. Ariadne got the impression Cheyenne wasn't used to losing.

"You should resign," Ariadne advised. "It's the honorable thing to do. Even a chess master couldn't get out of this."

Cheyenne was silent for a long moment, then she reached out and turned the white king face down. "I accept," she said in a soft voice.

Cheyenne's dark mood didn't last long, and she was in good spirits again by the time Ariadne had put the chess set away. Ariadne wondered how on earth she'd ever thought this adorable child's eyes were cold.

"Do you want to watch _Dawson's Creek_?" Cheyenne asked. "I have all the old episodes on DVD."

Ariadne shook her head. "I'd better get back. Daniel will be wondering where I've gotten to."

"Okay," Cheyenne said. "Let me give you my email address. " Cheyenne scribbled it down on a piece of paper, which she handed to Ariadne. "You can call me Shy if you want. That's what my best friend Ivy calls me." Cheyenne's face assumed a faraway expression. "I'm good at history and politics, and Ivy's good at computers. Someday we'll rule Billings together, and all the scholarship girls and the Hollywood glitterati will kneel at our feet. We'll be on top of the world, just like my family was back in Victorian times."

Ariadne watched Cheyenne as she described her dream. Cheyenne's eyes were cold and clear and full of purpose. Belatedly, it dawned on Ariadne that Cheyenne wouldn't have given her the time of day if she'd known Ariadne was a scholarship student and not a member of the Greek royal family.

Cheyenne hugged her as she left, oblivious to the change in Ariadne's mood, then went back in the room to watch TV. Ariadne headed off toward the sounds of laughter and music coming from the Legacy, realizing as she walked that sooner or later she'd have to confront Daniel with what she knew. Before descending the stairs leading to the first floor, Ariadne crumpled Cheyenne's email address into a ball and regretfully tossed it aside into some long-forgotten corner.


	5. Chapter 5: The End of the Legacy

Chapter 5: The End of the Legacy

When Ariadne got back to the Legacy, the party was still in full swing even though she could see a gray dawn rising through the giant picture window in the front of the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to Daniel, who was talking to an anorexic-looking girl wearing wire-framed John Lennon glasses.

"We need to talk," she told Daniel sternly.

Daniel shrugged. "No problem, babe." He smiled at the girl and led Ariadne over to a quiet corner.

"Did you fuck Amy Martin tonight?" Ariadne demanded when they got there. Apparently, she had spoken more loudly than she intended; people nearby stopped talking so they could hear what she was saying.

Daniel sighed. "Ariadne, you knew what this party was like before you came. Don't make a bigger deal out of this than it is. You're still my girlfriend. Besides, it's not like I hooked up with Nora or anything."

Ariadne shook her head. "First of all, you promised me you wouldn't do that. You promised! And second of all, it's not like this was a one-time thing. You've been talking to Amy for months now. Her sister told me."

Sondra hurried over to them, an expression of concern on her face, but Ariadne had a feeling the concern was for Daniel, not her. "Ariadne, hush. It's not polite to air your dirty laundry in public."

"Shut up," Ariadne snapped without thinking. "I'm talking to my boyfriend."

Sondra drew back as if she'd been slapped. "You forget yourself, dear. You may be as beautiful as I am, but you're still a scholarship girl from Jersey. I made you, and I could break you with my little finger." By this time, the entire party had gone quiet. Ariadne could see Mike Whittaker watching her like he wanted to help, but he wasn't sure how.

"Leave her alone, Sondra." Leda's voice rang out across the silence like church bells on Sunday morning.

Sondra turned to face Leda. "Go spread your legs for someone else, Leda," she suggested sweetly. "You've still got an hour left at the Legacy before you turn back into the Virgin of Terrebonne Parish."

Leda smiled, but Ariadne could see from the way her muscles tensed that the insult had scored. "Leave Ariadne alone," she repeated firmly. "I know more than enough secrets about you to make things very uncomfortable for you if I wanted to."

"You want to talk about secrets, huh?" Sondra snarled. "I'll tell you secrets. Everyone knows you left Clairmont to go to some girls' school back home in the backwoods of Louisiana, but what they don't know is why. Everyone thinks it was because Clairmont was too materialistic for your rarefied tastes—that's rich, by the way, lecturing me about materialism in your Roberto Cavalli dress and your Ferragamo heels—but what they don't know is that you left because Elaine made me queen instead of you, and you just couldn't handle that. You couldn't handle the fact that I'm better than you, and everyone knows it."

Leda never stopped smiling. "No, but they don't know just why Elaine was so nice to you." She stepped over to Sondra and whispered something in her ear. Ariadne couldn't have been more than ten feet away, but she couldn't hear a word Leda was saying. Sondra's face went dead white. She cast a panicked glance at her boyfriend David Butler, who looked a little nervous himself. Leda stepped back, an expression of quiet satisfaction on her face.

Slowly, Sondra turned back to Ariadne. "I'm sorry, Ariadne," she said quietly. "It was inappropriate of me to talk about you being a scholarship girl in front of everyone. It won't happen again."

"It's okay," Ariadne murmured, not quite believing her ears. She looked around for Daniel, but he was talking to Amy Martin. Ariadne really wished she had a drink in her hand right now.

Jeff Willoughby came over to Sondra. "We should go soon, Sondra. I think Ariadne's had enough."

Sondra nodded. Jeff wasn't much to look at, but Ariadne couldn't see in her eyes the almost superstitious awe even the oldest American money felt around the titled aristocracy of Europe. "No problem, Jeff. Let me just get everybody together."

In a few minutes, everyone from Clairmont was gathered by the front doors. Leda went with the Clairmont group, but Daniel, who was still deep in conversation with Amy, stayed behind with the other Wakefield students. In spite of everything, Ariadne knew she was still in love with Daniel, and she hated herself for it. The Legacy was one thing, but Ariadne couldn't understand how he could court someone else for months while insisting all the while that Ariadne was his one and only love.

As they all got into the limo, Ariadne looked back at the huge Gothic mansion and wondered if Cheyenne was still awake, or if she was asleep in bed dreaming of her family's lost glory. It occurred to Ariadne as the limo took off that maybe that quote from Dante's Inferno wasn't so wrong after all.


	6. Chapter 6: Going Home

Chapter 6: Going Home

Ariadne looked around the limo at her fellow partygoers. She and Leda were seated near the bar. Sondra didn't look at either one of them. Instead, she clung to David with an almost desperate tenacity, as if trying to prove to the world that everything was all right with them. Andrew Calder was really drunk, so he had already passed out with his head pillowed on Leda's shoulder. Echo Williams was sitting next to Ariadne reading a biography of the singer Lena Horne, one of Echo's personal heroes, and Jessica Markus had her eyes closed. Ariadne wondered if she was deep in thought, strung out on Valium or both. Christian Powell was sitting next to her, trying to get up the nerve to talk to her and failing miserably. Ariadne knew he was secretly in love with Jessica; it was the only thing that could distract Christian from his passion for roleplaying games. Jeff Willoughby and Wendy Kim were the only normal couple left. They were making out quietly in the back seat, seemingly oblivious to the tension around them.

"Look at us," Leda murmured, waving her hand to indicate everyone, herself included. "The beautiful and the damned."

"I couldn't agree more," Ariadne said. She didn't care. She didn't mind being damned as long as she got to be one of the beautiful people along the way. She leaned over to whisper in Leda's ear. "What's this big secret you've got over Sondra, anyway?"

Leda smiled at her. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore."

Ariadne knew better than to press Leda on the issue, so she hugged her instead. "Friends again?" The Benny incident was already receding from her mind like a distantly-remembered dream.

"As far as I'm concerned, we always were," Leda told her.

Ariadne decided to change the subject before she started crying. "Listen, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. Why do you put up with him?"

"Who?" Leda asked.

Ariadne gestured to the passed-out Andrew. "Him. He cheats on you, Leda. And not just at the Legacy. I mean like all the time."

Leda shrugged. "Look, it doesn't make a difference to me. As long as he's discreet, the details don't matter."

"How can you say that?" Ariadne asked incredulously. "You're gorgeous, and it's not the eighteen hundreds anymore; you don't have to put up with that shit from a guy."

"I'm just not really into sex, okay?" Leda snapped. She looked angry and embarrassed. "If he wants to do it with somebody else, that makes it easier for me."

Ariadne was fortunate enough not to have this problem, but she realized with sudden crystal clarity what Leda was talking about. "I don't understand. At the Legacy, with that guy, you seemed so happy…"

Leda smiled sadly. "That's one night a year. The rest of the year, that's real life."

Ariadne embraced Leda again. "I'm so sorry, Leda. That must be awful for you, not being able to feel anything when you make love."

"It's not that I can't feel," Leda confided, "it's that I'm terrified of feeling." She adroitly changed the subject. "Do me a favor, would you? Get me some Valium from Jessica. The coke I did was cut with way too much speed, and I really need to come down."

Ariadne got up and went to the seat behind them. Jessica was crying now, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Christian sat next to her, guarding her like one of those Chinese lion statues keeping watch over a sacred temple.

Ariadne tapped her on the shoulder. "Leda needs some Valium. Do you have any left?"

"Don't encourage her," Christian snapped. "She's strung out enough already." Ariadne ignored him and repeated her question.

Jessica sniffled and wiped her nose on a monogrammed handkerchief. "Hold on, I think I still have a few. I've got to pick up some more from Benny once I get back." Jessica reached into her purse and pulled out four tiny, circular yellow pills with heart-shaped holes in the center. Ariadne thanked her and took the pills back to Leda.

Leda got a bottle of Orange Crush out of her handbag and swallowed the Valium. With a grunt of effort, she pushed Andrew upright and rested her head against his chest. "There, that's better. Wake me up when we get to Penn Station, would you? I've still got to catch a cab to the airport."

The rest of the limo ride to Penn Station passed in relative silence. When they reached the train station, Leda hugged Ariadne goodbye and walked outside to find a cab. Once the uniformed attendant seated Leda in her cab, Ariadne followed the rest of the Clairmont students inside to wait for the train to Harrisburg.

The train arrived, and Ariadne sat alone this time, since she didn't have Daniel to keep her company. Christian sat down next to her. "That really wasn't nice, what you did earlier," he said once the train had been moving for a little while. "You saw Jessica was crying. Have a little empathy, would you?"

"I'm sorry," Ariadne said. "I couldn't leave Leda suffering after she was so good to me. You should ask her out sometime, you know. Jessica, I mean. I know you're in love with her."

"She's way out of my league," Christian said dismissively. "Besides, it's not like she's interested in sleeping with anybody at this point in her life, if you know what I mean."

Ariadne knew exactly what he meant. She had heard the rumors about Jessica's pregnancy as early as last week. On impulse, Ariadne stood up. "I'll go talk to Jessica, see if she's okay."

Christian smiled at her. "You know, Ariadne, you're actually kind of cool sometimes. Maybe you're not just a social climber after all." He gave her a hopeful look. "If you really want to know how many fire giants can fit in a twenty foot by twenty foot room, you could always come to the game Thursday night and find out."

"No thanks," Ariadne told him gently. "It's not really my thing." She walked to the front of the car and sat down next to Jessica.

"Hey," Jessica said. She had stopped crying and was now reapplying her eye shadow.

"I saw you crying earlier," Ariadne said. "What's wrong, Jess?"

Jessica didn't get insulted at the use of her nickname, so Ariadne figured she must consider her a good enough friend to use it. Jessica sighed and put the eye shadow back in her purse. "I have to get an abortion, and I'm not looking forward to it." She looked wistfully at Ariadne. "Sometimes I wish I could forget about what polite society says and just have the baby." Her voice turned bitter. "Of course, it's not like my boyfriend's asking to marry me and help me take care of it or anything."

"Maybe you should think about having the baby if it's important to you," Ariadne advised. "I mean, you wouldn't have to keep it if you couldn't handle that. You could always give it up for adoption. Is it a boy or a girl?"

Jessica shuddered. "I hope it's too early to tell, though God knows that's not something I want to think about. My friend Susan told me I should just imagine the abortion like killing a frog: regrettable but necessary." She looked directly at Ariadne. "What would you do?"

"I'd have the abortion," Ariadne said. "I wouldn't want to be pregnant for nine months while I was still in high school. But I'm not like you, and you actually seem to care about this baby." She stood up to leave, then turned back to Jessica. "You know, Christian really likes you. He may be a geek, but I bet he wouldn't leave you for another girl the way Gary did when he found out you were pregnant."

Jessica smiled. "I'm way too messed up to even think about dating right now. But thanks for the info."

Ariadne went back to her seat and closed her eyes. She soon drifted off to sleep, and woke up when the train arrived in Harrisburg. There were cabs waiting outside to take them back to Clairmont, and Ariadne shared a cab with Christian and Jessica. On the ride back, Jessica looked like she was asleep, and her hand was resting next to Christian's, their fingers just barely touching. Christian looked like he couldn't be happier.

When they arrived at Clairmont, Christian paid for the cab, and they went their separate ways. Ariadne entered her room on the ground floor of Wharton House and tried to decide what to do next. She was pretty sure Daniel would take her back once the heat of the moment had passed. After all, Ariadne was pretty, charming and good in bed, and she knew those things mattered to Daniel. On the other hand, she was also pretty sure he would cheat on her again; after all, he hadn't even said he was sorry this time. Ariadne wasn't sure if having a gorgeous, rich boyfriend from one of the best families was worth living a lie like Leda did. Still, she did love Daniel, and love was hard to just cast off like an old snake skin. Shaking her head at how screwed up her life had gotten in just one night, Ariadne climbed into bed and turned out the light. Maybe Cheyenne had a point, Ariadne reflected as she drifted off to sleep. Maybe love does make you vulnerable after all.


End file.
